


Alone

by misharuu



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Depression, Drabble, Fever Dreams, Gen, Hallucinations, Loneliness, Sick Sam Winchester, Sickfic, Whump, emeto
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:22:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25216945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misharuu/pseuds/misharuu
Summary: Shortly after Jess’ death and Sam’s reunion with Dean, Sam gets sick. He’s alone, delusional with fever, and desperate for someone, anyone to care for him.Whumpmas In July day three prompt: love.
Relationships: Jessica Moore/Sam Winchester (previous)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 18





	Alone

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [Whumpmas In July](https://whumpmasinjuly.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr! Day three prompt: love.
> 
> So I really have no idea where this came from! I don’t ship Sam x Jess and have never written a fic about them. When I read the prompt ‘love’ this just instantly popped into my head. I also usually don’t write whump without the comfort aspect... I’m not sure why my muses lead me in this direction. 
> 
> Read more over on Tumblr @misharuu ~

Sam sat on the cold bathroom tile, a chill seeping through the marble and up into his legs through his sweatpants. He shivered lightly as he rested his cheek against his arm, bent up over the toilet seat, his breath sending waves across the water. His legs were bent underneath him, toes straining against the ground for leverage, knees aching from the pressure. Sam winced as a cramp tore through his stomach, his free hand clutching his abdomen as he tried to pull himself through the pain, panting shallowly. If Jess had been there she would have been rubbing his back, pressing back his sweaty hair while whispering in his ear, promising him that he’d be alright. That she wasn’t going anywhere; she’d be here no matter what. Tears prickled the corners of his eyes as he tried to push away the intrusive thoughts, struggling to ignore the phantom sensation of Jess’ delicate fingers cradling his cheek. He whimpered involuntarily as images of fire flashed through his mind; Jess’ screams as she burned, suspended on the ceiling, the smell of burning flesh assaulting his nostrils. Sam retched as he relieved her death, remembering the way her blood felt sliding down his cheek, her eyes pleading and desperate, thinking that Sam would be able to save her but he failed. He always failed.  
  


Sam pitched forward as he gripped the toilet seat with both hands, gagging harshly as his mouth filled with saliva. He coughed and spluttered as he struggled for air between dry heaves, tears streaming down his cheeks from the force at which his stomach was trying to turn itself inside out. Sam gagged painfully as he finally burped up a wave of vomit, the foul liquid burning his throat and nose, splashing into the water. He swallowed thickly, trying to fight back the bile rising in his throat before he coughed up another mouthful of vomit, eyes squeezed shut. With one final heave his vision went black, sights and sounds disappearing beneath a thick haze. He felt himself falling, just barely having enough time to hold out a hand before he cracked his skull on the marble. “D-Dean?” he called out pitifully, knowing full well that his brother wasn’t in the crappy motel room attached to the the bathroom. He’d left a few hours ago; at that point Sam only felt a bit hot and dizzy and Dean’s incessant rambling and had set him on edge. He admittedly had been acting a bit short, almost biting off Dean’s head when he called him Sammy, a nickname from their childhood that he was desperately trying to escape. After that Dean had left to head to some dive bar, hoping to pick up a girl for the night.  
  


Sam groaned as he curled up into himself, pulling his knees to his chest, shaking so hard that his teeth were chattering. He was just so cold, so dizzy, so lonely, so unbearably hot. He imagined Jess sitting next to him on the floor, hushing him and rubbing his back, showering him with kisses and encouragement; _you’re alright, I’ve got you, you’re doing so well, I love you..._ Sam whimpered, his fevered mind starting to slip into delusion as he reached out his hand, fingers clenching as he tried to grab hold of Jess’ dusty pink nightgown, her skin glowing in the dim bathroom light, just outside of his reach. He crawled along the tile using his shoulder and knee for leverage, desperately reaching for Jess but every time his fingertips rubbed against her skin she shot out of grasp, so close yet so far away. “J-Jess -” Sam choked as he gazed into her eyes, a small smile curling over his lips, a halo of gold and light radiating from her curls.   
  


‘ _I’m here, Sam, I’m not going anywhere,_ ’ her voice was muffled and echoed, _wrong._ Sam sobbed and let out a choked off laugh, his heart swelling as he stared at his dead girlfriend, tears streaming down flushed cheeks. He tried to push himself up so he could throw his arms around Jess’ shoulders, his arms straining against his weight, feeling like his body was made of lead. As soon as he had himself up he took a moment to admire her beauty; her perfect white smile, dazzling eyes, her rosy cheeks and her velvety skin. “I love you, Jess,” Sam murmured, his heart flip flopping in his chest as he reached out to touch her cheek. Her smile began to grow, twisting and stretching beyond her lip’s natural range, splitting on the edges as her cheeks ripped to contain her wicked grin. Sam gasped and pulled his hand back, flinging himself away from Jess as she began laughing, a deep, cruel sound. Flames erupted around her head, quickly engulfing her body as she cackled, black smoke billowing through the small room, leaving Sam choking. He bent forward, his hands pressed against the ground as he sobbed and coughed. As quickly as she had appeared Jess was gone, leaving nothing in her wake except the smell of burning hair and flesh.  
  


Sam’s sobs quickly devolved into retches, a dribble of spit clinging from his lip to the ground. He doubled up as he gagged over the ground, bile splattering on the tile, splashing back between his hands. He coughed before burping harshly, his throat feeling like it was being scorched, raw and searing. Sam sobbed silently, no energy to try to hold back anymore, allowing the pain to invade his body, letting wave after wave of vomit crash on the ground. He couldn’t hold himself up anymore, letting himself fall to the ground, laying in his own sick as he cried and shook. “D-Dean?” he called out again, desperate for help, his heart shattered like glass.  
  


But no one came.


End file.
